Completed In Your Hands

[Rohka]

The Following Letter was Received on the 52nd Day of Winter, 520 AV

Dear Rohka,

I write this to you in haste. As the owner of The Mystic Eye, I forward you, my employee, this assignment. If you have reached your destination, get yourself to the library. You will know which one. There is only one. What is wonderful about where you are going is that unlike where you were (and where I choose to stay), the knowledge you seek is easier to find. That library draws pride from the woman that it celebrates.

Go there and find Sereke, the Head Librarian. A Svefra by night and near divinity by day, her beauty is exceeded by her humour, and I love her. She has become more subdued over the years due to the knowledge she and I have been seeking together. She will be your partner in the reading you must do for her. All you have to do is tell her that I sent you. If you haven’t already completed the sacrifice by now, she should also be able to provide some information on how to best destroy the stone.

I predict you will forget to ask her about it.

The reading you provide her will lead to the assignment she will give you. I have heard rumours of a mysterious location where anything can be bought and sold, and where the water is just as abundant as it is here, despite the vast sands. If you find this place, your job will be to buy the book that my love wants. You must buy it under your name, and you must use the mizas you receive from the reading you provide.

Then, spend all of your time copying every word of the book into a blank one.

Sereke will take care of the rest.

Do not write back. Burn this letter after you read it.

Faithfully yours,
Lelia

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[Rohka]

"Hi, I'm looking for Sereke?"

Rohka was directed up a winding staircase crafted in intricate metal-worked vines and flowers all along the railing. The air was a tad stale, with an interesting hint of saltiness, yet their was still a sense of warmth seeping through the skylight ceilings. Winter was not really winter, and daytime just felt bright.

A bit too bright for her current state of mind, having left the Healing Centre after burning the letter just as required. She wondered how much time she had already wasted in recovery. It still made her sick, remembering what she knew she needed to remember. It had been a more than a few days since she'd spoken to Krishveth... they'd taken him away from her in order to protect her body. She'd been possessed for a long time, they said. She'd need time to recall who she was, and she was to be treated for all ailments and wounds inflicted from his presence within her. Surprised at how well the Centre took care of their patients, Rohka had not complained. It was, however, a familiar kind of torture. Like being on the Lakeshore, but worse. She barely left her room sometimes, and if she did, it was for treatments and healing exercises. It was exhausting.

She would eat, throw up, make a gel, and then the gel-like substance would be carted away. Every single day.

Receiving the letter was such a relief. It was the first time she'd heard from Lelia since she'd left, and it was almost better than hearing from family. It pained her to admit to herself that she still hadn't written back to them since arriving in Zeltiva, knowing that she was here to also find her grandfather. It just felt too difficult to write to her parents in Ravok. She felt, somehow, a lot better here than over there... despite being stuck inside that much more. It wasn't that she didn't care to write to them. She knew that would want to know how she's doing...

...but she'd gone so long without explaining herself in details to them. It was overwhelming to even begin to think of how to tell her mother about all that had happened to her.

What would she think of Krishveth?
Of Markham?
Of Caspian?

The sybil imagined herself digging a hole and dumping her questions into it, filling the hole back up with dirt, then watering it. Something about the visual calmed her down and let her believe that the answers would grow with time and proper nourishment. It was all she could do to contain her emotions. She found her place of joy with her as she climbed the staircase, reaching the third level where she was told there would be an office for Head Librarian.

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[Rohka]

"Yes, three sisters."

"And a child for you, the eldest?"

"Yes, named Maribelle before her disappearance. Rumoured to have changed her name. But her father, he isn't-"

"Let me guess. He left, came back, brought another stockpile of-"

"Yes, we don't talk about it. You shouldn't, really. Against the laws of the stars, which is really all that Astronomy is about."

Rohka nodded, the perplexity building. They'd been speaking to each other for over a bell now, going over the basics in introductory conversation before arriving at the topic at hand. The reading was to be on Sereke's past life, as there were details involved with her Svefran past that had to do with the information that Lelia was seeking. Sereke had agreed to be read in her Ethaefal form, as Rohka felt it would allow for the divined communication to flow smoother if the woman was already under blessed light.

There was another secret that Lelia hid from the sybil. Sereke slid over an old, small, blackened leatherbound book. A corner of it was almost charred, like it had been quickly removed from a fire.

"I'll give you some time to read this by yourself. I was instructed to return to you as soon as you've finished reading it, which shouldn't take you longer than two bells or so. I can't read it because I haven't learned Kontinese, but I assume you know the basics?"

"Yes," nodded the sybil. "I've been taught by family and mentors."

"Okay, great. I leave this with you while I tend to reorganizing a few shelves. Stay here until I return."

The graceful Eth with her voluminous brown curls stood up from her luxurious seat and seamlessly floated out of the door. Rohka remained seated in a simple awe, touching the corners of the book, afraid to peer inside. She knew she had to, though. The job required it. It felt like a test, having to read before doing a reading. What trickery was Lelia really putting her through?

She picked up the tome and brought it closer to her face, flipping it open to the first page. Carefully, slowly, she read the Kontinese characters that formed the title written in beautiful, dark blue, scripted handwriting.

My interpretation of Palms. By The Creature of The Frozen Forest, aka The Window.

Rohka sat there, her heart beating faster, immediately enamoured by the delicate beauty of the text. She flipped the page and began to read it. She fumbled over quite a few words. Many she couldn't recall nor recognize. It helped that there were some drawings, which Rohka attempted to commit to memory.

...That was when what she realized the potential of the ability given to her by Markham. Would the charm help her look back and read details of words she experienced reading?

She figured she could test it out at a later time.

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[Rohka]

"May I?"

"Yes."

In touching Sereke's dominant hand, the sybil could her feel entire body begin to shiver, the coursing dance of djed threads moving up and down her spine. Rohka took a few deep breaths before holding her hand once again, calmly, letting go of us much of her fear as she possibly could.

Dear Rhysol, may I please be allowed to read as accurately as possible, with the basic knowledge attained from an account of experiences. May this reading be blessed, and may it not cause any harm to the parties involved. With Love, Rohka.

The silent prayers in the sybil's mind went unnoticed as she began to speak to her partner.

"The Window stresses that your palm is the interface between the celestial or the unknown realms of life and the corporeal micro forms of life," stated Rohka, tracing her fingers across the delicate lines. "In choosing to read from your current form, I am drawing from the purity of where you've been, where you are now, and where you are going. If I was to have read the palms of your night form, the picture would counterintuitively be less clear. The Window specifically mentions that an Ethaefal's palms have the interface into the domain of Leth and Syna, where we are meant to be looking."

"Thank you," said Sereke, her tone as gentle as a warm breeze. "Please, tell me anything you can about this life. I've been seeking for more than a hundred years for the family I've lost. I would be amazed if I've had the answer written upon my hands all this time."

Her eyes watered as she said it, and Rohka did her best to carefully hold the woman's palms up with strength and courage. Another breath in, another breath out. The sybil focused her attention on the creases, watching the mind flitter to her mental notes before dragging the attention back again. A constant training, consistently observing herself observing her sight, both externally and internally.

She could begin to feel the tiredness already, and it was only the start of the job.

Boxcode credit to Antipodes

[Rohka]

Another bell into the study, more insights began to surface.

Logical processing, from the squared shape, the long fingers, a longing for a continuous stream of new knowledge was practically etched deeply into Sereke's being, which results in the seeking of varied and unending stimulation. The quality of her life was rich, but simple, which was the juxtaposition that she thrived in the most.

The important detail, for the Ethaefal, was in the tiny marriage line.

Sereke admitted to the Lacun mark that she held over her heart on her night form.

"My fascination with the sky at night came from him," said Sereke. "He taught me what I know. The High worlds, the Low worlds. The ones from High worlds never transfer permanently. The ones from Low worlds do not mind doing so."

It was here that Rohka needed to make a choice to reveal information that could potentially hurt. The sybil needed to find a way to frame it so that it provided hope instead. She closed her eyes, requesting the moment of contemplation to be silent. Breathing in slower, breathing out through pursed lips, Rohka meditated with the will of her being in full commitment to providing the best of her service to her partner. Sereke simply wanted to find her family. The sybil would read and tell exactly what was needed. She took in another large inhale of air before releasing it entirely.

"Sereke, there is nothing to fear. Your ex-husband, unlike yourself, was in love with the trials and tribulations that violence always has the potential of putting us through, when we agree to let it into our lives. As an Ethaefal, you have surpassed such stages into the realm of peace before falling once again upon this world we call Mizahar."

"The Valterrian..."

Rohka closed her eyes and shook her head. They would not speak on this front. It was not their place.

"You, Sereke, are growing and changing in this period of time. This crease, and this scarred mark, The Window has deemed a shard from a Low world. There was a being that was given the chance to arrive into your life, and I would wager that it was this being that entered the sphere of your love for him. The next piece of information that I must provide is to be acknowledged and not to be given elsewhere," said the sybil, pausing, opening her eyes, staring straight at the Ethaefal.

"Your daughter survived. Thrived. Either lived or is living a long life. Dear Gods, if I am right, please may she be found. If I am wrong, my deepest apologies to you all for the false sense of hope. I base my reading upon the learnings through The Window."

The Ethaefal let out the deepest sigh. It was exactly what she wanted to hear. Overjoyed, she held the sybil's hands tightly, tears streaming down her face...

...finally at peace with the knowledge of her daughter's living existence.

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[Rohka]

The truth ate at Rohka's insides.

What she failed to tell Sereke was that the being from the Low world and her daughter were tied across the heart line. The Window had mentioned soul ties to be a rarity to find within a palm reading. Rohka was certain that this was the information that Lelia would've wanted, and in fact, after receiving her due payment from the Eth, the next part of her assignment was exactly as she'd expected. The book to be found was anything on the philosophy of astrology. Sereke gave her the exact symbol she was required to find. The classic symbol of The Mystic Eye, modified with sparks that fell as tears. If she could find that symbol in a book about astrology at a market within the place of abundant water... that was the book to buy.

Sereke also gave her an extra gift, in sincere thanks for the requested communion. It was a freshly made copy of An Account of The Circumnavigation of Mizahar, which Rohka accepted with full gratitude and honour. She took a few moments to sit and read through it.

Chapter Seven struck a chord. There, plain as day, were the words that brought her more clarity on her own history. The Vantha, it seemed, from the stories told long ago, had all come to Mizahar from the stars, and retained the stars in their eyes to this day. A sudden anger boiled in her, jsut then.

The Vantha killings. Brutal, barbaric, and by the Gods themselves? I cannot even begin to understand the why for this...

Rohka read onwards. There was a conversation with the Queen. An image of a child playing with a floating block of wood in a bath. It made her smile for a tick before the fear slowly began to creep in.

Was that how the Gods see us? No, impossible. Like children playing with toys while we continuously attempt to clean ourselves of the filth we put ourselves through, day in and day out? Do they think they're just playing with us when one of us dies? Do they think it's all just a game when instructing us to kill another? Do they gain pleasure from this structure of pain and suffering? How do the Gods live with themselves, if this were true? How could they possibly claim to love us? Gods, are they just conditioning us to serve them, then? What's wrong with me?

The fear continued to build.

Oh Rhysol, please forgive me. I do not mean to think such unholy thoughts. I know you are our saviour, and the One True Force of Love in my heart. Please, help me see it differently.

I don't want to be afraid of you.

Boxcode credit to Antipodes